


Urithiru Races

by squirenonny



Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 21:22:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4495212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squirenonny/pseuds/squirenonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because why would Radiants walk when they have Surges?</p><p>Written for the Only Rainbows After Rain Cosmere Challenge</p>
            </blockquote>





	Urithiru Races

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this scene](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zMsn96fjesE) from Rise of the Guardians.

A shriek split the silence of Urithiru, startling ardents and scribes. A minor lighteyed officer swore and flattened himself against the wall as two glowing figures careened past, chased by a streak of white light and a sparkle of…something. Something half-seen, crystalline, a dark shadow keeping time with the light.

“Sorry!” Kaladin shouted, with a slight upward Lashing to avoid a collision with a cluster of soldiers in Sebarial’s colors. His shoulder skimmed the ceiling and he swore, veering down, close enough to knock a writing board out of a scribe’s hands.

He winced, flipped around, and landed hard against the wall below him—a split second before Lift arrived, sliding on Slicked knees at an impossible speed. She could have put her hands down, pulled some of the “awesomeness” out of her legs to slow down.

Instead, she slid on, hurtling toward a wall and a broken neck. She stared him in the eyes, unflinching, grinning a challenge.

At the last second, Kaladin Lashed himself back the way he’d come. He grabbed her under the arms and pulled her up, her momentum spinning him in a circle in midair. Kaladin slowed them, then set Lift on her feet, uncomfortably aware of the dozens of eyes watching. Those looks ranged from shock to curiosity to outright indignation, and the last thing Kaladin wanted was to turn the whole of lighteyed society against Urithiru’s newest Radiant.

(It was too late to salvage her opinion of them, of course. She’d hated them from day one, and Kaladin had liked her from the moment she turned up in Bridge Four’s quarters with pockets full of stolen pastries.)

Lift’s head lolled back as Kaladin set her down, and she let out a groan to rival a chasmfiend. “Why do you hafta be such a starvin’ stick-in-the-mud, Kaladin?”

“A stick-in-the-mud,” he said, crossing his arms. “Because I didn’t let you brain yourself on the wall.”

“Hey. I’m _awesome_. I’da healed.”

Kaladin rubbed his forehead. “That’s not a good reason to go slamming into walls, Lift.”

“It most certainly is not.” Wyndle arrived, puffing, Syl laughing and spinning loops over him. The crystalline vines that comprised Lift’s spren twined up Kaladin’s leg and settled on his shoulder. “Perhaps you should listen to him, Mistress.”

“Oh, _boo_.” Syl snuck a glance at Lift, then mimicked the girl’s dramatic groan. “You boys are so _stuffy._ ”

Lift nodded once, matter-of-factly. “Hey. Voidbringer.”

Wyndle sighed. “Why do you insist on calling me that?”

“Cause that’s what you are.”

Kaladin arched an eyebrow at her. “You know, I’ve seen Voidbringers. Trust me when I say Wyndle is definitely not one.”

“ _Thank you_.”

Lift sighed again, louder this time, and Syl joined in after a curious glance. Kaladin scowled at her, which only made her giggle, zip back, and hide herself in Lift’s long hair.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Lift said, jabbing her finger into a cluster of crystalline leaves—also, coincidentally, into Kaladin’s arm, with enough force to bruise. “Voidbringer. You need to hang out with Syl more. She could teach you a few things.”

“Like what, how to pull pranks and cause trouble?”

“Yeah, exactly!”

Wyndle sighed, creeping higher on Kaladin’s shoulder. “You see what I have to put up with?”

Kaladin fought down a smile. “I’m starting to get an idea.”

“Actually, I’ve been thinking—hear me out on this, now. What do you say to letting Syl and Mistress Lift be…” He paused, grunting. “Letting them have their fun. I could be your spren instead.”

Syl appeared atop Lift’s head, scowling. “Kaladin, don’t you dare.”

“Now hold on, Voidbringer.” Lift crossed her arms, rising up on her toes to peer at Wyndle. “You aren’t really thinkin’ of ditching me, are you?”

“So you _do_ care. I was beginning to wonder.”

Crystals like rockbuds sprouted from Wyndle’s vines, a show of pleasure so overt that Lift rocked back, blushing. “Course I don’t. Starvin’ Voidbringer.” She bit her lip, bouncing on restless feet, then turned and took off running. “This is boring. Try and catch me, stormcloud!”

She took in Stormlight and, three paces later, dropped to her knees. Whooping, Syl chased after her.

“Stormcloud…?” Kaladin muttered, staring after the pair of them. “Is she serious?”

"Rarely,” said Wyndle. “Though I’ve heard rumors that she _is_ capable of acting like a proper Radiant.”

Kaladin raised an eyebrow, but started walking in the direction Lift and Syl had gone, if only to outpace the stares of lighteyes who had stopped to see the show. “What do you do when she gets like this?”

There was a pause as Wyndle slithered down Kaladin’s leg and reattached himself to solid ground. “What else is there to do but follow her, and try to keep her out of the worst danger?”

Kaladin’s steps slowed. _Stormfather._ What had he gotten himself into?

* * *

The corner came up fast—too fast, and not fast enough. She grabbed a hold of the nearest person, some man in a froofy, frilly jacket with greasy hair, and used him to swing through a turn. The swears that chased her brought a grin to her face. Syl kept pace beside her, a white streak bubbling with laughter.

A shadow flashed past overhead, and Kaladin landed on the wall ahead of her. Lift bit back a scream. Starving _grown ups_!

“Get outta here, stormcloud,” she called as he started to fall toward her, hand outstretched. “I can take care of my—huh?”

As Kaladin passed, he tapped her on the shoulder, but instead of slowing, she drifted around the corner. Lift spun herself around and gaped at Kaladin as he came flying up beside her, scowling like she’d forced him to go around collecting all the chull dung in Urithiru.

“Lashing is really not made for close quarters like this,” he grumbled, running a few steps on the ceiling, then reaching down to correct her course.

“So why’re you doing it?”

“Because.” Kaladin’s eyes went wide, and he Lashed her to the side. A cluster of spearmen flashed past, staring after them with disbelieving smiles. “Wyndle made an excellent point about the amount of damage you’d cause if left to your own devices.”

Smoky vines raced along beneath Kaladin, grumbling. “I did nothing of the sort, Mistress.”

Lift grinned. “So what I’m getting is, you two felt left out.”

Kaladin grunted.

“No need to look so angry about it, stormcloud.”

He flashed her an irritated look, but soon had to focus on the hallway ahead, and steering Lift away from any nasty collisions. She spun herself back around, checked to make sure she was still good and slicked, and settled in for the ride.

“Faster,” she ordered.

“What?”

“Faster! I know you can do it, stormcloud.”

Kaladin dropped down beside her, flying on his back so he could glower at her. “That’s not going to happen.”

She shrugged, putting down her fingers to weave in and out of a group of startled scribes who scattered in her wake. “Well, if you’re scared…”

“You’re going to have to try a lot harder than that, kid.”

“’Kay, then imagine the look on the lightlords’—”

“Brightlords.”

“Brightlords’ faces when we come screamin’ into their fancy meeting like a coupla starvin’ highstorms.”

That startled a laugh out of the grumpy guardsman, and Lift grinned.

“Is that a yes?”

In answer, Kaladin Lashed her toward a staircase and onto the outer wall so they chased each other up in a screaming corkscrew that left Lift’s head spinning. They burst out onto the upper floor, startling a pair of spearmen, and Kaladin threw open the door before Lift could turn herself into a sticky-awesome smear on the fake wood.

Brightlord Dalinar stood on the other side. He spun at their loud and sudden entrance, eyes going wide, and caught Lift before she knocked him off his feet. (She was only a _little_ disappointed his reflexes were so starvin’ fast.)

Kaladin dropped to the ground, laughing. A few quick steps brought him to a stop, the lighteyes all staring at him like _he_ was the Voidbringer. " _Storms!_ " he said, steadying himself on the table. "That was actually _fun_!"

Lift wriggled out of Dalinar’s hold and punched Kaladin’s arm. “Not bad, stormcloud. Looks like I might have to keep you around after all.”


End file.
